Hunted
by Alexis4
Summary: Vincent stumbles across a woman in trouble on his way to visit Tifa and Cloud. It soon becomes horrifyingly clear that they have too much in common. How is this girl connected to the Turks? And as her hunters close in, how will Vincent cope? V/OC Cloti


_I'm__ posting this chapter as a teaser. What __I'm__ really looking for is one or two people to beta for me. __Someone familiar with the genre as I am new to this fandom.__ I need someone to help me look out for mistakes in place and things like that. If anyone is interested let me know._

**Disclaimer: I ****don't**** own Final Fantasy VII or any characters for that Saga. I own Kiera, Dr. Chang and Jackson and any other ****orginal**** characters I may come up with in the course of this story. All other ownership, of course, belongs to Square ****Enix**

Vincent wasn't sure of why he had come to Edge. He was a solitary creature even after Chaos had returned to the planet. He was happy in his own way, being Vincent and all, and he'd forgiven Lucrecia and begun to forgive himself though old wounds were not completely healed. Still, decades old habits were difficult to break. But eventually he'd missed his friends and so had decided to pay Cloud and Tifa a visit. Making his way through the streets in the direction of 7th Heaven, Vincent ignored the looks the citizens gave him. Still dressed in his black clothes topped with red cape, he knew that he was an unnerving sight to those who did not know him well. Even his friends had a difficulty meeting his garnet gaze at times.

To his right, the sharp clang of a falling trash can caused Vincent to turn sharply in that direction. The gunman froze, blinking a few times, surprised at what he was seeing. A white haired woman dressed in a white hospital gown and robe was stumbling unsteadily in the alley. Despite the color of her hair, the woman was clearly not old. Her skin was smooth and fair and Vincent's keen eyes detected a faint dusting of freckles upon her cheeks.

She was a mess.

The white hair that fell half way down her back was dirty and tangled and her exposed skin was dotted with ugly, dark bruises. As Vincent watched the woman reached out with a shaking hand to steady herself against the wall. Her shoulders were slumped in exhaustion and her breaths came in shallow gasps. Vincent winced realizing that the woman was barefoot in an ocean of broken glass.

"Can't . . . s-stop now," she muttered to herself.

Vincent took a step forward intending to offer the woman aide when a man with short blonde hair and who seemed to be part behemoth and part rock entered the alley. The ex-Turk stopped and watched, waiting to see what would happen hand hovering over his ever-faithful Cerberus.

"There you are," the behemoth said pleasantly, "I've been looking everywhere for you. The boss'll be thrilled to have you back" Taking several steps forward, the man smirked as the woman backed away. "It wasn't very nice for you to leave like that." His tone had become decidedly less pleasant.

"I-I'm not going back, Jackson" the woman replied hoarsely, "H-haven't you p-people . . . done e-enough?"

"The boss has invested a lot of time and money in you, babe," the giant answered, once again advancing, "You insisted on fighting. So, if you're a little worse for wear that's your fault. This doesn't have to be unpleasant. Why not make this easy on yourself and come along quietly?"

"W-why . . . don' t you . . . fuck yourself."

Any pretense of pleasantness faded from Jackson's face. "Fine. Have it your way. It's more fun for me."

The woman dropped into an unsteady fighting stance as the big man reached for her.

Having seen and heard enough, Vincent drew Cerberus and stepped into view, beloved pistol aimed directly at Jackson. "I don't think the lady wants to go with you," Vincent said in his soft, smooth voice.

Jackson turned to face Vincent, blue eyes widening as he realized exactly who he was facing. Hell, he'd seen plenty of pictures in the files his boss kept. Vincent Valentine. _The boss will love this. __Better__ not let Valentine realize that I recognize him just yet._

"This doesn't concern you," Jackson said in a friendly way.

"I think it does. The lady," Vincent nodded toward the woman in question who was watching the exchange warily, "told you that she didn't want to go with you. From the looks of her, I don't blame her."

Eyeing the gun aimed directly between his eyes Jackson mentally weighed his options. If he fought Valentine here and now then the girl could be damaged. His boss would definitely be pissed. But, if he waited then the boss could possibly turned this situation into a pleasant surprise. Worst case scenario, the boss would just send him and a small army to retrieve the girl.

Jackson backed away, inclining his head slightly. "Fine. Take her but be careful. You might live to regret it." The giant gave the swaying woman a grin. "Be seeing you, sweetheart."

"Only in my nightmares," she bit out.

Jackson chuckled and backed up several yards before turning and jogging away.

_That was too easy._ Vincent hesitated a moment before returning Cerberus to its holster. Something wasn't right here. The gunman stood quietly for a moment listening for any sign that Jackson hadn't left. When certain that he and the woman were alone, Vincent turned to face her.

"I don't much care for your choice of friends," Vincent said. Now that he was closer, he could see that she was younger than he had first thought, perhaps in her early twenties. The ex-Turk could also see how her lithe form trembled with the effort of staying upright.

Moss colored eyes watched him warily even as the girl slumped tiredly against the wall. "He's no . . . friend of mine."

Alarmed to see her skin becoming even paler than before, Vincent held out a hand. "You are injured. Allow me to help you."

"Why?"

Vincent gave girl a quizzical look.

"W-why would you . . . help me," she elaborated in a tired, husky, voice, "What do . . . you want in return?"

"Nothing," Vincent answered truthfully, "I saved you did I not? You can trust me."

To his surprise, the woman laughed brokenly. "It doesn't . . . look like I have a choice."

Before Vincent could question her further, her eyes closed, and she slid down the wall to fall to the ground in a heap.

Vincent crossed the short distance to where she lay and knelt at her side fingers feeling for a pulse. It was slow but strong. Frowning, Vincent thought, _Now__ what? _He'd have to take her to 7th Heaven. Tifa and Cloud would have the things necessary to treat her wounds. In truth, Tifa would probably have his head for even hesitating to come to them for help.

Careful not to add to her many injuries and wounds Vincent lifted the unconscious woman into his arms. Her robe slipped back enough for him to notice a deep red stain on the right side of her hospital gown. There was not a large amount of blood so Vincent felt it was safe to forgo violating her privacy. She would be fine until he got them safely inside 7th Heaven.

Moving quickly, the gunman carried her through the streets grateful that they were only a few blocks from the bar Tifa and Cloud ran together. It was still early and so the bar had not yet opened for the day when Vincent entered.

Tifa stood at the bar drying glasses with a white towel. The brunette looked up prepared to tell her would -be customer to come back later but froze upon realizing it was Vincent who stood in her doorway with unknown woman lying limply in his arms.

"Vincent!" cried Tifa, "What happened?" The martial artist leaped over the bar and hurried across the room. "Cloud!" she called up the stairs, "Get down here!"

"Who is she?" Tifa asked long fingers brushing white hair from the unconscious girl's bruised face. "I'll bet she's beautiful under all these bruises," she murmured to herself.

"I don't know," Vincent replied, ignoring Tifa's musings, "I found her in one of the alleys. I didn't know where else to take her. I was already on my way to see you and Cloud and so . . ."

"You did exactly what you should have," Tifa assured him.

Booted feet clomped down the stairs. "Tifa? What's wrong?" Cloud stopped mid-step when he saw Vincent standing in the doorway holding a strange woman in his arms. "Vincent!"

Vincent stepped forward nodding his head towards the stairs. "We can discuss this later, Cloud. First, the girl must be seen to."

Nodding, Cloud gestured for Vincent to follow him up the stairs while Tifa retrieved the first aid kit from behind the bar. "You can put her in here," Cloud said showing Vincent to one of the rooms.

"Where are Marlene and Denzel?" Vincent inquired absently, laying the girl on the bed as gently as he could.

"Off on a visit with Barrett," Cloud explained, "They won't be back until the end of the week."

Tifa arrived, med kit in hand. "Okay, everyone out so I can get to work."

Vincent hesitated but Cloud laid a hand on his shoulder, gently steering him out the door. "Tifa's a pro. Come on. We'll have a drink and you can tell me what happened."

Allowing Cloud to usher him back downstairs, Vincent took a seat at the counter. Walking behind the bar, Cloud grabbed a bottle of scotch and poured a generous amount into a glass for Vincent and then one for himself.

"I know you prefer wine but I think something with a little more kick is called for."

Nodding his thanks, the gunman took a long swallow before setting the glass back on the bar.

"Now," Cloud said, "Tell me where you found your friend."

So, Vincent told him, not that there was much to tell. "I was surprised that this Jackson let me take her without a fight. I heard him say that his boss, whoever that is, has put a lot of money into girl."

"Did you catch her name?" Cloud asked, taking another drink from the now almost empty glass.

"No. Neither the girl or Jackson used it." Vincent frowned, "For a moment, I thought perhaps he recognized me. He didn't say anything but the way he looked at me . . . it makes me wonder."

Cloud took a moment to ponder that. "If it had been me or one of the others I wouldn't be surprised but you . . . well, you were never good at standing still for the camera. The rest of us were all over the news after Meteorfall."

"Maybe I was imagining things."

Skeptically, Cloud said, "Your instincts are usually pretty good, Vincent. They've never let me down yet."

Whatever response Vincent might have made was cut off when Tifa came down the stairs.

"How is she?" Vincent asked.

Tifa shook her head. "She's a mess. Whoever had her beat her up pretty good, though from the bruises on her knuckles, I'd say she put up one hell of a fight. There was an incision in her right side that I used some cure materia to help close. She'll be weak for a while but I think she'll make it."

Looking down at the ground, Tifa hesitated for a moment before continuing, "There . . . there are a lot of scars on her body. It looks like she's had several surgeries and I can see needle marks all over her arms."

Both Cloud and Vincent averted their eyes. What Tifa just described sounded eerily familiar.

"You think . . . she's been experimented on?" Cloud asked softly.

"I can't be sure but, yeah, it seems that way," Tifa confirmed sadly. The brunette felt sorry for the unconscious woman upstairs but she also ached for the two men before her. _It's__ still a touchy subject for both of them. I __don't__ think either Cloud or Vincent will ever completely recover._ Tifa knew Cloud still had nightmares and was willing to bet Vincent did too.

Crossing her arms, Tifa gave Vincent a curious look and changed the subject. "What were you doing in Edge anyway, Vincent? Cities in general aren't one of your usual haunts."

Looking up shyly, Vincent replied, "I came to visit you and Cloud. It's been a while."

The brunette smiled widely and even Cloud smiled with pleasure. "That's so sweet, Vincent. We're glad to have you."

"I'm sorry that I may have brought trouble to your door," Vincent said, "I didn't know where else to take her."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Tifa scolded, "We're your friends and if you can't count on your friends then who can you count on, right? Really, Vincent, after everything we've been through together you should be able to come to us when you're in trouble without feeling guilty."

Vincent nodded obediently, thoroughly chastised. "Yes, Tifa."

Chuckling, Cloud said, "Good idea, Vincent, just give in or you'll another lecture."

"You've gotten enough of them," Tifa remarked, glaring playfully.

"See, Vincent? I'm the voice of experience."

The ex-Turk "Hmphed," noncommittally.

Smirking, Tifa turned to go back upstairs. "I'm going to go keep an eye on our guest. Planet knows when she'll wake up though."

Once Tifa was gone, Cloud and Vincent looked at each other awkwardly for a long moment. Cloud looked away first, rubbing the back of his neck. "Human experiments. I'd thought we'd put a stop to all that."

The only answer Vincent gave was to down the rest of his glass of scotch.

"Yeah," Cloud said, copying Vincent's actions, and then refilling both their glasses, "It's a bitch."


End file.
